“It wasn’t unfair to ask, really. In the grand scheme of things, you two have only known each other for a short time. Naturally, both of you are curious about the other.” Sarah stretched her arms overhead. “Do you notice how he never mentions his father? And I’m curious what his relationship with his mother is really like. At one point, he had her all to himself, and then Charles entered the picture. Gabe adores Allen, but it would be hard, not having his father around and seeing Allen with his mom and Charles. Did he ever feel pushed out? I think you and Gabe have more in common than you think. Not just golf,” she attempted to suppress a smile since golf was a new thing she encouraged as a way for me to spend more time with my siblings, new and old, and so far, my skills were subpar.
“Probably.” That was too much to ponder at the moment. “What gift did young Sarah want that she never got?”
“Is it awful of me to say I got everything I wanted.”
“If true, no. That’s the way it should be. And knowing you had everything you wanted warms my heart. What about now? What do you want?”
“I have everything I want or could possibly need. Stop trying to buy me the perfect gift. I don’t need it.”
“Shall I return it, then?”
Her face flushed. “And ruin the effort you put into finding it?”
“That’s what I thought. And I’m looking forward to seeing what you got me.”
She placed a hand over her mouth. “I knew I was forgetting something!”
“Hardy har har.”
She kept up the act. Or at least I think she was acting. Would it be possible for her to drop the Lizzie ball?
Gabe and Maddie crashed back into the room, each carrying two mugs of mulled wine.
“Salvation is here!” Maddie held up her hands. “You’ll thank me, Lizzie. Nothing in life can be bad when drinking my special mulled wine brew.”
Chapter Four
I rolled over in bed, groaning.
Sarah matched my displeasure with her own growl. “What time is it?”
I squinted at the clock, the red light fuzzier than usual. “Not sure you really want to know.”
“What happened?” She snuggled into my arms.
“Maddie’s mulled wine—the devil’s brew.” I kissed her head. “Merry almost Christmas.”
“There’s nothing merry about today.” She rolled over, reaching for her phone. After several seconds, she said, “Mom, I’ll pay you a thousand dollars to come get the twins.” There was a pause. “No, I’m not sick. Just…” Another pause. “Thanks.”
“There are perks to having one’s mother-in-law around the corner.” I opened one eye to judge Sarah’s mood. “Do you think you can get some more rest?”
“Water first.”
I got up and stumbled into the master bathroom to fill up two water glasses.
Sarah gulped hers, wrapped her hands around her head, and rolled over.
Two hours later, I made my way to the kitchen to make coffee for Sarah and tea for me.
Maddie sat on the barstool, coffee cup in hand, reading the screen on her iPhone. “Whose brilliant idea was it to invite your entire family for Christmas Eve dinner? When hungover?”
“I thought your mulled wine was our salvation,” I mocked.
“We have T-minus nine hours before everyone is expected. And you know the Petries. Never late.”
“It’s true. When I had 8:00 a.m. classes in college, I had my butt in the seat every day exactly at 7:53.”
“Why fifty-three? Why not 7:55?”
I shrugged. “Not sure really. Do we really want to psychoanalyze me today of all days? I’m going to make more coffee for Sarah. Do you need a refill?”
She nodded.
“What about Gabe? Is he still asleep in the guest bedroom?”
“I think I’m going to claim the room. I spend more time here or at Gabe’s than at home. A complete waste of rent.” She sipped her drink. “And, no, Gabe rolled out of bed at six for work. He’s still in his twenties. I think he muttered something about Christmas orders or along those lines.” She waved a hand implying she hadn’t been listening or didn’t care. “Do you think it wise to wake Sarah yet? Rose and Troy have the twinks.”
I placed my palms on the countertop. “It’s a catch-22, really. She’s been going nonstop and, thanks to you, has a hangover from hell. But if I let her sleep, she’ll panic about her to-do list.” I waggled my hands in the air, determining which was the lesser of two evils. “What do you think?”
“You’re asking me for advice?” She clutched the front of her long-sleeve. “Look at you, growing as an adult.”
I rolled my eyes.
She laughed. “It’s a catch-22 for us as well. We can relax a bit longer or be under the control of Madame Taskmaster.”
“I know, but I sleep in the same bed as Madame Taskmaster. And… she scares me sometimes.” Not to mention I enjoyed having sex with her, and pissing her off was one of the best ways to cut me off for the foreseeable future.
“Afraid she’ll smother you with a pillow?”
“Something like that. Besides, all of this is partly my fault. She has difficult in-laws, and she’s doing everything she can to help me navigate the Petrie quicksand and make things as normal as possible for our children.”
“Gabe feels terrible, by the way.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be in charge of alcohol.” I filled the coffee pot, aware my only option was to rouse Sarah from her hungover slumber—or suffer the taskmaster’s consequences. I’d rather suffer than Sarah. In any situation.
“Not about that. He’d had too much to drink when you asked him about Christmas with his mom and Charles.”
I turned the burner on to heat up the teakettle. With my back to her, I said, “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just odd, sometimes, knowing my father was more of a father to him than to me. And Peter, really.”
“I don’t think that’s true. About you not asking. You have the right to know. Besides, Gabe really likes you, Lizzie. Looks up to you, actually. Your drive to succeed. He’s even more determined to turn his mom’s shops into the only online store for flowers and gardening.” Her voice was soft, lacking her usual snark. “You two should hang out more, just the two of you. Talk. About feelings and such. You know the stuff you hate, and admittedly, Gabe isn’t that great at it either, but it’ll help you two get to know each other better.”
I wheeled about. “Why does growing as an adult involve so much talking? It’s my least favorite activity right after cleaning the toilet.”
Her smile confirmed she understood how much she was asking of me, but she wouldn’t give up. I didn’t think she meant to push me today, though.
A creak on the stairs drew our attention.
Maddie and I locked eyes momentarily before chuckling.
“And so it begins,” she whispered.
Still in pajamas and a floral robe, Sarah entered, yawning and bleary-eyed. “Coffee, stat.”
“Almost ready. I was going to bring it up to you.”
She plopped onto the barstool next to Maddie. “What’d I miss?”
“Christmas. The twins loved it. The Petries behaved. Dinner was a smashing success.” Maddie made checkmarks in the air after every fib.
Sarah narrowed her eyes. “You know, I wish everything you said was true.”
The coffee pot gurgled. I poured the black liquid into Sarah’s I haven’t had my coffee yet; don’t make me kill you mug, a gift from Maddie. “Sugar this morning?”
She grunted, “Yes.”
That was a bad sign.
Then she said, “Two scoops.”
Doubly bad sign.
“Of course, sweetheart. Are you hungry? I can whip up some pancakes.”
“Please,” Maddie answered, and I was certain she answered for Sarah, who, more than likely, would have refused in order to get the to-do list going.
I didn’t know how to tell her we could have all the food catered and hire party plann
ers to save her from the trouble. For Sarah, the effort was her way of loving her family.
Sarah flicked her fingers, indicating whatever.
“While I make breakfast, why don’t you take a long, hot shower?”
Sarah scooped up her cup and left.
“Quick thinking about the pancakes and shower,” Maddie said.
“Glad you think so, because you have to make the pancakes. We all know I can’t cook.” I pitched my hands in the air, demonstrating I was useless in the kitchen.
“I didn’t see that coming. Nicely played. But you aren’t escaping to the library. You can help me gather everything. First, another cup please.” She banged her cup on the counter.
Chapter Five
Sarah shoved her breakfast plate away. “Okay, you two, get cracking on wrapping the remaining gifts. Lizzie, you tackle the twins’ presents and let Maddie do the rest.” Sarah jerked her thumb over her shoulder to a pile of boxes, wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows sitting on the twins’ craft table tucked into the corner of the family room.
“Yeah, the twins won’t notice if the images don’t align, the bow is off center, and the ribbon’s in tatters—you aren’t the most meticulous wrapper. Just saying.” Maddie’s smart-ass smile didn’t rile me.
“Totally okay with that. Let’s get cracking. My part should be done in twenty.” I tapped the face of my sports watch.
“Right after I prep much-needed Bloody Marys.” Maddie took two steps toward the kitchen.
Sarah grabbed the back of Maddie’s ridiculous sweater that showed Santa kneeling in front of a tree with a present, the jacket riding up to show his black thong. It wasn’t an image I wanted to associate with anyone, especially Father Christmas.
“No, you don’t.” Sarah commanded. “I’m still hungover from yesterday’s mulled wine, and if we start drinking now, we’ll be passed out under the tree before the first guest arrives.”
I nodded carefully, not wanting to rattle my wine-soaked brain too much. The extra sleep earlier had only alleviated some of the suffering. It’d been many months since I’d had such a wicked hangover.
“I’ll go easy on the vodka.” Maddie tried to wiggle free, but Sarah clamped on for dear life, causing Maddie to gurgle as if she were being strangled. Maybe she was. Sarah did hate when people deviated from her party battle plans. It was obnoxiously cute.
“I’m not buying that. Get to work.” Mercifully, she let Maddie go before I had to contemplate whether or not to dial 911. I hadn’t figured out whether I’d be requesting police for backup or an ambulance.
That was one Christmas memory I hoped to avoid.
Maddie, reaching for her neck, swiveled around to Sarah. “We’re all hurting from yesterday. The best cure is the hair of the dog. Trust me.” She tapped her fingers together in an evil sorceress way.
Sarah let out a bark of laughter. “I trusted you last night, and look how that turned out. I had to call Mom to come get the twins this morning because Lizzie and I couldn’t function fully. I can’t cancel Christmas because you don’t know the proper vodka to tomato juice ratio. I’m not in my twenties anymore and am creeping scarily closer to forty every day.”
Maddie waved a hand. “Nonsense. Rose loves swooping in to help you two out, and I’m sure the twinks are having a blast spending the day with their grandmother and Troy. He’s probably on his thirtieth rendition of ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’ The man loves that song.” Maddie slanted her head. “Besides, I peeked at your plan. You’d already scheduled Rose to whisk the twins away to give us time to prep everything.”
“Not before I got out of bed and that’s not the point.” Sarah massaged her forehead, clearly lacking her usual vigor when arguing.
“Let me put it this way; either you let me make some Bloody Marys, or I’m outta here. Or at least heading back to bed.” Maddie charged into the kitchen before Sarah could strangle her for real.
Sarah locked her bloodshot eyes onto mine. “Don’t encourage her.”
I yawned and stretched my arms overhead. “I didn’t say a thing.”
“Exactly!” She stormed out of the family room.
I eyed the stack of boxes on the twins’ art table. “How will I know who the recipient is?” As I was alone in the room, no answer was provided.
In the corner by the fireplace stood one of three full-sized Christmas trees in the house, this one overloaded with Disney ornaments since it was the tree the twins spent the most time by. The other two were in the living room and library.
I plugged in the bubble lights to gin up my festive spirit. Sitting at the table, with my knees jutting out since the chairs were toddler-sized, I selected the top box on the pile to my right. After careful examination, I spied Ollie’s initials, ORP for Olivia Rose Petrie, in the upper righthand corner of the box. I grabbed one from my left and sure enough, it had FJP for Frederick James Petrie. Smaller piles in the middle had the names of other family and friends, as well as my name and Sarah’s. I wasn’t surprised to see my name on some of the boxes, since Sarah had been clear Maddie would be wrapping all of the gifts that didn’t belong to the twins. And it wasn’t the first time we’d done this. Sarah could be extremely practical that way.
But it was the first time she’d purchased her own gifts.
Maddie sashayed with extra pep, clinging to two glasses with celery stalks sticking out of the red liquid. “You haven’t gotten very far.”
“Sarah bought gifts for herself and wants us to wrap them.” I accepted the glass but didn’t take a sip.
“Okay.” Maddie set hers on the table and scrunched down into a chair. “Let’s get cracking.” She took a hefty slug.
“You don’t find it weird that Sarah got herself gifts?” I rattled one of the smaller, flatter boxes.
“Did you get her anything this year?” She crossed her arms over her chest in her typical accusatory way.
“Of course, I did.” I tossed my hands up, annoyed she thought I’d forget to buy the mother of my children a Christmas gift.
Maddie crossed her arms. “What?”
“A necklace.” I rattled the box again, but it didn’t make much of a sound, giving me zero insight into the contents.
“Just a necklace?” Maddie took the box from me.
“Well, it goes around her neck so yes, I’d call it a necklace.”
Maddie whacked my leg with the flat box. “Describe it.”
“Oh.” I palm-slapped my forehead. “It has a gold chain and an antique locket. That’s why I asked for your help to select the perfect photo of the twins. It has a ruby and some other stuff. Um, it’s elaborate.” I tried miming the intricacies of the design but gave up. “I have no idea how to describe the scope or pattern. It’s old.”
Maddie appraised me with one eye closed. “That means it was expensive. When in doubt, you always go for flash, like when selecting wine in a fancy restaurant.”
“You could say that. About the necklace, I mean.” I remembered the money I’d forked over.
“How expensive?” She widened her eyes, waiting for me to fill in the blank.
“Let’s put it this way. One of the twins may not be able to go to college.” I laughed. “Totally kidding, but I think Sarah will love it.” I rattled another box in Sarah’s pile.
Maddie nodded appreciatively. “Did you happen to go shopping with Gabe? In the ring department? That might be a good sibling thing for you two to do.”
“Why would I buy Gabe a ring?” I took the tiniest of sips of the Bloody Mary, hoping Maddie’s hair of the dog theory was true. With Sarah’s foul mood and Maddie’s inquisition, this wasn’t the time to have foggy-brain syndrome.
“Not buy him a ring. Help him buy a ring.” She exaggerated the key words with her typical southern dramatic flair.
Catching on, I still couldn’t help myself. “Is he wanting a ring?” I snapped my fingers. “Hey! Why don’t you get him one? I’m sure the shops are still open. You might even be able to have something deli
vered. Money makes the world go ’round.”
Maddie stared at me with her mouth slightly agape. “Are you fucking with me?”
Sarah dashed into the room on a mission. “I don’t hear any wrapping. Less talk. More work.” She pantomimed we should close our traps and then disappeared into the kitchen.
“I bet she’s hitting the Bloody Mary.” Maddie cupped her ear. “Yep.” She looked way too pleased about her victory.
I grabbed one of Freddie’s boxes. “You heard the boss. Get wrapping.”
Maddie reached for one of Ollie’s. “Maybe I should get Gabe a ring. Why do I have to wait for him to get his act together? As my grandfather used to say, It’s time to shit or get off the pot.”
I cut the wrapping paper, covered with penguins wearing scarves and Christmas hats. “What are you talking about?”
“Asking Gabe to marry me.”
I held the scissors aloft, the sharp end pointing in her direction. “Really? I wasn’t aware you wanted that with anyone. Not after ditching Peter at the altar.”
“What does that have to do with this?”
I waggled the scissors before I realized I was shaking a sharp object at her. Setting them to the side, I asked, “Is this a trick question? Like some logic puzzle on the GREs.”
“I don’t see how ditching one man at the altar for cheating means I don’t ever want to get married.”
“And you want to now? To Gabe? After dating less than a year? I hadn’t realized your relationship had progressed to… this. Isn’t this something lesbians do?” I was babbling, which I did when unsure what to say. Maddie’s decision had a whiff of desperation to it. Admittedly, I’d been told on numerous occasions that I wasn’t the most romantic or observant of those around me.
“It feels right to me. I can’t explain it.” She leaned over the table and whispered, “Would it be weird for me to ask him?”
I placed a hand on my chest. “You’re asking me? Do you not remember how I proposed to Sarah? It involved an insect bite, resulting with a ring being cut off of her swollen finger, and Sarah forcing me to buy her a diamond ring the next day all while on a weekend trip to New York City.”
A Woman Loved Page 4